


send in the clowns

by yerimoney



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, This might be OOC, and i simply wrote it when i was very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 00:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerimoney/pseuds/yerimoney
Summary: irene and joy and how they get smaller and smaller until they disappearbased off 'send in the clowns' by frank sinatra





	send in the clowns

**Author's Note:**

> really sorry its so short but this is more of a vent than actual fic anyway. was depressed on thursday - friday and decided why not. anyhow i'll most likely look back on this and delete it or edit it. but probably not expand it.

_this is a song about a couple of adult people, who spent, oh, quite a long time together, til one day one of them gets restless and decides to, leave. whether it's the man or woman who left is unimportant. it's a breakup. it's a lovely marriage of words and music, written by stephen sondheim._

_isn't it rich..._

joy walks with the slightest of springs in her step, settling finally beside irene. sitting down with her back against the wall.

irene smiles, sweet and sincere. they stay there before joy lays her head on irene's shoulder, sighing.

...

joy laughs at the sight of irene's hands drenched in clay, desperately trying to hold on to the pot she's trying to make. she doesn't know whether it'll be very successful.

the other woman lets out a chuckle, but keeps it small so she can focus.

the wind blows through the windows, and the curtains fly gently.

...

they lie on the bed, breathing serene and breathing slow. it's an alright night - they are alright with each other. no one is jolted awake, no one has bad dreams.

comfort will be what keeps them together throughout the night, in ways they cannot count.

...

joy wraps her arms around irene, stroking her hair and burdened with every shake and sob.

it's monstrous, and she tries to ignore how scared she is. irene whimpers like a wounded animal, in these moments she is barely human, barely there.

they stay there for quite a while. joy doesn't let go even when her arms are sore and her own throat is choked with tears.

...

"i'm afraid it's misshapen," she suggests.

irene frowns. she knows she got this right. she followed all the steps, she asked everyone else how to do this. how to do this? why is everything going wrong?

joy is not condescending, she knows. she's more quiet than disgusted. more concerned than judging.

still what crawls out in the pits of her brain make their way to the bottom of her throat. she blinks rapidly, trying to stop herself from gripping too hard. she hopes the clay is kind to her this time.

no wind blows through this time, leaving an awful amount of static in the space they're in. the curtains may begin to gather dust, she's afraid.

...

she doesn't know how she got here. but when she opens her eyes, uncomfortable from how puffy they are, joy is staring at her.

it's not exactly loving. she hopes she never deciphers what it is.

"why are you up?" she whispers. joy looks tired.

she lets out the saddest of smiles. "nothing from tonight."

"i'm sorry," she starts to say. it's a whisper again.

her bottom lip quivers. "you don't need to be," she reassures irene again.

she doesn't know who sleeps first, her mind isn't in the right state - but she knows when she wakes up, joy is already gone.

...

_i'd thought that you'd want what i want, sorry my dear_

...

irene opens the door to an empty room, and the box drops from her hands.

it falls open, whilst the watch inside stays intact. the lights are on and joy is not here.

she'd got the promotion she'd been trying for for a very long time.

she turns the light off and walks to the side of the room, leaning against the wall until gravity takes over and she slides onto the ground.

the lights are off and she cries alone, and doesn't stop until 2 a.m.

...

the room is abandoned, windows shut and gathering dust.

on the table there is a single machine that has stopped working. it's been out of use for quite some time now.

there is no laughter. no sounds. no two people who used to fit together.

the curtain tears as it ages.

...

irene cannot sleep, no matter how hard she tries. she stares outside, she stares at the ceiling, stares at forgotten pictures. nothing works.

she's lost track of time, has no idea which part of life she's supposed to be at now. nothing works - careers, brains and relationships are all a distant memory, a distant vision.

there is no future here. there is no serenity, no comfort, and the bad dreams are very much alive, reaching for her.

they've all gone, seperate ways or not.

_but where are the clowns? send in the clowns... well maybe, next year..._

_191018_

**Author's Note:**

> these lyrics had a big part to play too:  
Isn't it rich?  
Are we a pair?  
Me here at last on the ground,  
You in mid-air,
> 
> Isn't it bliss?  
Don't you approve?  
One who keeps tearing around,  
One who can't move,


End file.
